Snow Angel, a Froslass (Pokémon) Fanfic
by Schastye
Summary: After getting lost in a snowstorm, the narrator is saved from a frigid demise by a mysterious Froslass...


Cold. Freezing cold. I struggled in vain against the flurry of white battering at me, the wind screeching in my ears. I was getting increasingly desperate, being able to see absolutely nothing in front of me. The numbing frost gnawed at my legs as I blundered about blindly, stumbling, groping for a way out of this frigid hell. My energy waned as my anguish grew. I screamed out, in utter desperation, my voice silenced by the raging tempest. And at last I could trudge no further, and collapsed. The penetrating cold radiating all through my body was the last I could feel before my eyelids were dragged shut.

My eyes open. It is pitch black. "Urgh, where am I...?" My voice is gravelly, cracking. I feel numb, almost sedated. Without warning, a shaft of blueish light abruptly pierces the darkness. Shielding my eyes from the sudden glare, I push myself backwards, alarmed at this mysterious flash.

As my eyes adjust, on first glance I see that the light is emanating from a strange white figure. Upon further scrutinising I realise that the figure is hovering above the cold floor of the cave. It floats towards me, two ice crystals poking out of its top shimmering with an iridescent purplish gleam.

A Froslass... I realise. Having been told of these mystic creatures by various townsfolk as the supernatural devils of the snow, I backed away nervously. Stories had been passed down generations about children wandering into the wintry forest, never to come out, abducted by one of these ghostly beings. I panicked slightly, realising no way out of this echoing stone tomb. Did it abduct me and bring me here? What does it want?

I back up against a wall, startled. As it floated inexorably nearer I scramble to snatch up a stray pebble on the ground. In a feeble attempt to scare it away I grasp the stone and make a futile throw. Owing to a curious mix of incredible marksmanship and panic, the projectile trails off into the blackness, missing the figure completely.

With no conceivable escape, I put my hands in front of me, shivering, from fear or cold I did not know. "What... What do you want?" I can only ask, voice trembling. If it can hear me it doesn't show it, moving ever closer. My eyes squeeze shut as I imagine my demise, only to feel something like a blanket covering my quivering body.

Startled, I open my eyes and see the Froslass using its pair of arms to wrap around me. I panic further, immobilised by raw terror, but realise that was not making any further advancement; it wasn't attacking. Furthermore, its flared arms were... oddly warm. Even though it was an Ice type. A very strange but undoubtedly welcome refuge from the biting cold. I take in a sharp breath, my hysteria fading away with the coldness.

I look up at the strange creature. Its face was oddly calm, with no detectable sign of animosity, perhaps even a trace of concern. Maybe it wasn't as hostile as I made it out to be...? I study its features. I had never seen one before in reality, only in books and tales. It was astonishingly beautiful, its stunning blue eyes deep and harbouring emotion. I noticed the crystals on its head were an intense purple, instead of the usual blue I had seen in books.

"Did you bring me here?" I enquire. Did the Froslass nod, or was I imagining things? All of this could well be a hallucination from my fatigued brain. I envisioned myself waking up, in the comfort of my own bed, roused from the nightmare by the sun's warm rays.

"Why?" I bring myself to ask. It doesn't reply, but the violet crystals on its head flash overwhelmingly bright. I find myself enveloped in a murky hue of indigo, and am shown a vision, of myself wandering about in a snowstorm, eventually buckling. A figure - the Froslass, I realise - emerges from nowhere and floats over me. Another flash, and the vision fast-forwards to the cave, where the Froslass telekinetically rests my limp body on the ground.

The telepathic vision fades, and I am left staring into Froslass' profound eyes. I gradually come to understand the matter - I had misunderstood Froslass. I had been saved from a frigid end - to this bewitching spectre I owed my life. "Thank you..." I breathed. Froslass still doesn't reply, but emits a hollow chiming sound.

I reach for a Pokéball in my belt, only to discover it gone. Oh, that's right, I recount myself going into the woods just to collect a few pieces of wood for the fire that had extinguished. It wouldn't take long, I convinced myself, leaving the house without my coat and sash of items. Then the snowstorm made an appearance out of the blue and... ...

Sufficiently warmed, I let Froslass remove her arms and proceed to stand up. Froslass floats in a particular direction, gesturing for me to follow. I walk along briskly, my energy somewhat restored. We reach a boulder blocking our path. Froslass dislodges it with a wave of her arms.

I am greeted by the radiant light of day streaming into the cave opening. The weather was remarkably clear, and from my vantage point I catch sight of the town I never thought I would see again. I turn to Froslass, only to realise, to my dismay, that it was nowhere to be found.

The morning seems exceptionally bright, every colour somehow more vibrant, every creature and plant somehow more alive. It is with gratitude in my heart that I track homeward. Gratitude to the bewitching saviour I had never even got the chance to know better.

...

"And that's how your grandfather got saved by a Froslass." said an elderly woman. The child sat in her lap, enthralled. "Wow, grandma, is that really true?" He asks in amazement, his face lit up by the flickering light of the fireplace by which Luxray was quietly napping.

"Oh, we will never know. That's a secret your grandpa brought with him. Now, off to bed, it's getting late!"

"Alright, grandma! Goodnight!"

"Sleep well." Came the frail woman's reply, before standing and, similarly, retiring to her bedroom, all the while musing, "A warm Froslass with purple crystals!" While fantastic, the stories her husband used to tell her were sometimes certainly unrealistic, with the old woman even finding herself doubting the authenticity of those captivating tales.

And as the young one slept soundly, moonlight filtered in through the blinds, and, unbeknownst to the child, a Froslass floated outside, watching over him with, one might think, an air of fondness. The night was all but quiet, powder snow gently drifting onto the ground outside the house. And still the Froslass watched the child, almost as if guarding him. It was hard to notice, but if any passers-by looked hard enough at the unmoving Froslass, they would observe that the crystals on its head were coloured a curious shade of intense purple.

== END ==  
== Конец ==

Thanks for reading!  
Спасибо, что читаешь))


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